One Grayson
by Take.Flight247
Summary: Series of one-shots based on events in Richard Grayson's life. Some events may wve other influences from different cartoons and comics. T Cuz I feel like it!


**:D** **Hi** **T.F247** **here**! **So** **this** **is** **my** **2nd** **fan** **fiction** **here** **(yay)** **and** **this** **is** **basically** **gonna** **be** **a** **series** **of** **one** **shots** **(chance** **that** **some** **might** **be** **two** **or** **three** **shots)** **of** **events** **and/or** **highlights** **in** **Richard** **Grayson's** **life**. **This** **one** **happens** **to** **be** **when** **Richard** **found** **out** **Bruce** **Wayne** **was** **Batman**. **Hopefully** **it** **is** **worth** **reading**!

**Disclaimer- Sadly, DC and Warner Bros. Have not asked me to take over their characters for free. Therefore I own nothing... Yet**

He was falling. Always falling. He could feel the air rushing against his face, the tug of wind against his hair. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what they had felt. It wasn't a terrible feeling, falling.

He looked down and saw the smallest bit of light, conspicuous in the darkness. For some reason he couldn't tear his gaze from that spot. He watched as the spot grew larger, or maybe he grew smaller? As he fell towards the light, he began to notice shapes in the light. Shapes that turned into people. People who turned into his parents. His uncle. His cousin. They looked up at him, and yet he still fell to them.

The ground rushed up at him and the panic he should have felt suddenly hit and filled him with an icy dread. He couldn't do anything. He was frozen. His family watched him with sadness and regret etched on their faces. Then he hit the ground. But he didn't hit the ground. There was no feeling of his body hitting the ground, no pain rebounding through his bones, so he opened his eyes. He stood in the center of the light with his family around him. Only they weren't his family any more.

Four bodies lay in a circle around him. Twisted and limp, broken. Their eyes were still open, still watching him. The eyes were empty, reflecting nothing, but they still seemed to send accusatory glares to the boy who slumped onto his knees in the center. Too much blood pooled from the mangled bodies, a sick color so similar to the red of the circus tent. The boy winced as blood began to flood the light. It was an inch deep, now four. It steadily rose, but the boy didn't attempt to struggle. He could only see his parents, broken, just like that night. The liquid seemed to thicken, moving slower. The boy rose with the bodies as the liquid carried them up.

The boy's head suddenly hit something. He looked up and saw nothing, yet something prevented him from rising any higher. The blood kept flowing, though. He pressed himself vainly against this invisible roof, desperate to keep his face above the blood. Eventually the liquid rose to meet him. He held his breath as the warm substance flowed around his face until his lungs felt that they would burst. His body reacted to his lack of air instinctively. His mouth opened, gasping for air but met only blood. It filled his mouth with a sick metallic taste. His family's blood... Darkness tugged at his vision.

Dick shot up in bed, gasping and clutching his stuffed elephant. He had had another nightmare. That's all. It hadn't been real. He wiped his forehead with his arm and threw off his blanket. It was much too hot in that room. He glanced at his alarm clock. 12:32 a.m. Dick sighed. He'd been living here with Bruce and Alfred for nearly a month. He'd been living without them for almost two. Yet he still had so many nightmares. Bruce had said that it would eventually relent and the pain he felt would fade to a tolerance level. Maybe he was doing something wrong? Maybe that's why his dreams always turned for the worst? Maybe... he should go and ask Bruce right now. Yes, that's what he would do. Bruce would know what to do.

Dick stretched out his stiff arms and legs before standing up. He held his elephant by the ear as he stumbled towards his door. He rubbed his eyes as he walked into the semi-dark hall. Bruce had put a few small lights in the halls closest to Dick's room so he could see at night. He put a hand on the wall and left it here as he made his way down the hall to Bruce's room, dragging his hand on the smooth paint.

He finally arrived at Bruce's room and he pushed the oak doors open, revealing the large, dark room. Bruce was a neat an organized person in reality, no matter what all the articles or magazines said. Dick had learned that 99% of he stories told about Bruce Wayne were utterly ridiculous lies. The remaining 1% were tiny truths blown up and exaggerated too much.

Bruce had a few shelves lined on the wall, a heavy looking desk full of papers and a laptop, and other pieces of furniture scattered about the room in an organized sort of way. The only thing Dick saw, though, was the bed. The heavy velvet blanket and matching designed pillows were made. Bruce wasn't in bed, nor had he been, since his bed was still made. Where would he be? Had he left Dick, too?

Dick whimpered. He turned and trudged down the hall again, deciding he should just go back to his room. He was about halfway there when he heard voices.

"...should really be getting to sleep..." That was Alfred. At this time? He knew Alfred was extremely strict about bed times. Dick stopped and listened. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but what if someone was in danger? Maybe this time...this time he wouldn't let anyone fall.

He sneaked as best he could to the corner and peeked around it. A faint light shone from behind another turn further down the hall. In that faint light he could see the shadows of two figures walking down the hall.

"...just need to check something..." This rumbling voice belonged to Bruce. Why were they awake so late? Where had they gone? More murmers drifted through the air, but Dick couldn't make out what most were saying

The two figures stopped at some point in the hall, then they disapeared. It was as if thy went into a room. Dick cautiously walked down the hall and poked his head around the next corner. A lamp was on, casting the dim light Dick had seen earlier. Bruce and Alfred weren't in sight, but the strange thing was that the only door in this stretch of hall was the library room, and the light wasn't on. Who would go in a library without the light on?

Dick noted that he also hadn't heard any doors opening or closing, and these heavy doors weren't exactly silent. So where had Bruce and Alfred gone? He looked at everything in the hall. A door to the library, a large grandfather clock that didn't like to show the right time, a few paintings, and a table holding a lamp.

The paintings were too small to hide anything in Dick's opinion, and the door was already out of the question, so he looked at the lamp. It was normal and there wasn't anything under the table, either. Plus there was no way that he wouldn't have noticed a secret door by this table. He often hid and played under the tables in these halls.

Dick stopped looking at the table and sat down. What was he thinking at? A secret door, really? What could Bruce possibly have to hide? He should just call of his search and go back to bed. But then again, just looking couldn't hurt, could it?

He pushed himself to his feet and walked to stand in front of he clock. It always showed the wrong time. Bruce said it was broken when Dick asked why. The faded bronze varnish covered the entire clock and the bell inside shone a gold color, if not a bit duller than it had been when it was made. The clock, like everything else in the house, was dust free and clean.

Dick tried opening the front of the clock to access the chimes, but it seemed to be either strongly locked, sealed, or stuck. He could nearly rule out the clock now. All he had to do was finish his examination, then he could force down his curiosity and try to return to bed.

He returned to the lamp table and, after placing his elephant gently on the ground, he picked up the heavy porcelain lamp. He grunted as he slid it onto the ground as quietly as possible without crushing his fingers. Then Dick curled his fingers under the edges of the table and dragged it in front of the clock.

Dick brushed imaginary dust of his hands and jumped up onto the table. He now had a good view of the clock's face and hands. The numbers were, of course, in roman numerals and they had a completely wrong time. Suddenly Dick had the odd notion to fix the hands to the right time. It would probably be about 12:40 now, so he took the hour hand and turned it clockwise until it landed on the twelve. Then he pulled the longer minute hand, which had been on the ten, clockwise as well.

A strange thing happened, though. As the minute hand passed the hour hand on the twelve, it clicked softly into place as if it were meant to be there. Then an even more abnormal event occurred. The clock slowly and completely silently slid to the left, revealing an elevator.

Dick, of course, being a curious nine year old, grabbed his elephant and stepped into the small elevator that immediately started descending into darkness. Dick wasn't scared, though. Bruce must have come that way, so he would be fine. The air got colder and damper as he travelled down. How far, he wasn't sure. When he finally saw a dim light he realized that the walls were of a cave. He blinked. A cave?

The elevator stopped at the bottom and stairs continued the way down. Dick looked up and around at the massive stalactites and stalagmites built up in the nearly black colored cavern. He could hear the steady dripping of water somewhere, a chittering high above that could only be bats, and the sound of his guardian and Alfred's voices echoing against the rock. He could hear Alfred's voice a smidge clearer than Bruce's, though. He was using his lecturing voice against Bruce.

"...could tell him, sir. Before he finds out himself..."

Bruce sounded busy as he answered, and a barely audible sound similar typing filled the damp air.

"...don't really want to add to his burden yet..."

They continued their conversation as Dick travelled carefully down the stairs, clutching the elephant close. He finally reached a platform that overlooked the area. He peered down and saw Bruce sitting in front of a piece of technology that could only be described as futuristic. Alfred stood beside him, his hands behind his back.

Dick kept looking and saw a small, shallow looking stream running through the floor of the cavern. He saw a vehicle of to the right, black as night and partially hidden in the shadows of the cave foundations.

He shifted his foot unconsciously and sent a small shower of loose pebbles falling down the side of the platform. They rained down softly, barely creating any noise, but it was enough to send both Bruce and Alfred glancing up to see Dick crouched in his PJs with his toy staring at them as he put two and two together.

Alfred's next sentence was very clear to both Bruce and Dick's ears.

"Well, Master Bruce, I won't say I told you so."

So how was it? Okayish? ;) I appreciate review and feedback so I can improve. Also I wouldn't mind any suggestions or ideas for more events and/or highlights. Thanks!

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